Diagnosis: Normal
by Hunger4Righteousness
Summary: Addressing a common childhood situation leads the prison's physician to question just how normal life can be for an expatriate alien growing up in the pen.


_I was kindly informed earlier today that, unbeknownst to me, there is already a MM fanfic with the title "Being Normal". So this fic has been retitled "Diagnosis: Normal". Sorry about that! _

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When the men were out in the yard, the prison always seemed too wide and echoing. It made him think of a school in summer. It felt unnatural. Uncomfortably empty. But the tall, fit man with sandy hair strolled casually down one corridor unaffected by the intense silence. It was the quiet flapping of his soles on the concrete floor that made him purse his lips. Moving at his usual unhurried pace, hands clasped loosely behind his back, he glanced into each unoccupied cell in a disinterested way.

It wasn't often Dr. Morrow could be prevailed upon to make a "house call". He preferred to let the inmates come to him, feeling in better command of things within the professional and purposely impersonal space of his office. Only in times of necessity did he deign to grace the unlovely hallways and cells with his presence. But today was an exception. The warden had summoned him a few days previously to report that their most unique inmate was not acting normally.

Whatever that meant. When did he ever? He was obviously still trying to define himself, still finding his way.

No, no, the warden had insisted. This time it's different.

Yes, yes, David has replied indifferently. With him, it's always different.

And Warden Doyle had eventually thrown up his hands and walked out, unwilling to submit to the frustration he often felt in dealing with the doctor as well as indicating that he was leaving the situation in the physician's care.

One thing David couldn't deny was that he found the boy an interesting case. Fairly certain he had seen it all, expecting to never be surprised by anything in this life again, he found himself drawn to study the youngster, an alien being found in the prison yard at only a few weeks old and now entering his sixth year of life growing up inside the city's prison for the criminally gifted. And why? Why constrained to a life behind bars, presumably without recourse to the law? Because of run-of-the-mill simpletons living lives ruled by emotional reaction - which described the majority of the population of Metro City including the idiots who ran the place - who found his alienness threatening. He was abnormal. And that meant _dangerous_.

Never mind that his giftedness, a propensity for building anything he could think up, had yet to prove to be at all criminal. The fact that his creations were often destructive should have been of no consequence as far as David was concerned. Give any toddler or child a tool of some kind and see what innocent destruction they got up to with it. That's why power tools came with warnings. Heck, hand a child a simple permanent marker and you were asking for trouble. So why did they all presume this boy was evil incarnate? And how exactly was one supposed to define "normal" for such a character? He snorted to himself, thinking of the seriousness of the warden's expression as he'd voiced his concerns. Nonetheless the day before David had consented to join the guards on the observation deck during lunch.

At first the bright head, usually as easily picked out of the crowd as a lit bulb in a dark room, was nowhere to be seen, but soon enough he emerged from a side door, late, a short spindly figure on the end of a chain like a dog, apparently prevailed upon by force to take his meal. He sat with hunched shoulders before the tray the guard slapped down on the table, clutching his pet's spherical containment unit and staring at the meal with tight lips and wide eyes as though he was afraid the food might bite him back. David watched impassively as the big green eyes dropped sadly to the water creature in his arms as it appeared to speak. But the boy only slowly shook his head. He passed the entire mealtime the same way and left without having eaten a bite.

Flap, flap, flap… He really must try to find a new pair of shoes. He hated that sound. Hated losing his advantage. Coming to a halt in front of the one cell still occupied, he scanned inside it for several moments before spotting the figure he was seeking. The boy was so small he could easily hide himself among the tangle of sheet and blanket on the bed, but upon hearing the physician's voice, he peeked out from under them along with his watery friend.

"Blue," David commanded as the cell door clanged open with an accompanying buzz. "Come with me."

Then he turned and began to walk back toward his office, not bothering to turn and check if the little inmate was following obediently. Surely the stony-faced guard who had joined him at the cell would make sure he did. Ignoring his thoughts for a moment, he could hear them bringing up the rear in fact. Could hear one of them. For a moment David thought jealously of the boy's noiseless feet but consoled himself by considering how little the kid probably weighed. He would hardly be able to force a sound from the concrete even if he tried.

Unhurriedly pulling the keys from his pocket, their jangling jarring in the silence, he unlocked the door to his office. Walking around and behind the desk, he paused before sitting down, a little surprised to see there was as yet no one in the room with him. He sat anyway and waited, long slender fingers folded together on the desk. The doorway remained empty for several moments while he stared at it impassively. Then the ridiculously skinny figure in the small orange jumpsuit that had had to be specially ordered sidled reluctantly into view after receiving a mild shove from the guard who followed. He shuffled forward to stand before the desk, eyes downcast.

"You can leave," the doctor dismissed the burly man who waited at attention.

"But I'm supposed to-"

"Oh, go on. Get out." With a grimace of impatience he added, "Unless you're afraid he's just waiting to knife me in the back or… " He gestured at the tiny figure standing before his desk, shoulders bowed over his pet, "Bash my head in with that fish-tank he carries around just to get a gander at all my super secret outdated medical journals." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"But-" the guard began uncertainly.

"Go… go!" This one was obviously not used to thinking outside procedure. As he watched the man walk out the door, glancing back with obvious concern, the physician rolled his eyes. When he was finally gone, he turned his attention once again to the small alien boy.

"So. Blue," the doctor began, making a small effort to speak with something other than his customary indifference. "What's this I hear about you not acting… _normally_?"

Huge green eyes lifted briefly in his direction before dropping to a new spot on the floor. One small foot crossed over the other.

"Run out of ideas for new ray guns?"

His needling produced no answer.

Knowing this was a kid who readily picked up on any opening to chatter enthusiastically about new inventions he was in the process of or planning to create, and that he never ever ran out of ideas, David looked away himself, examining the degrees displayed on his wall for a moment before detecting a muffled buzzing and bubbling coming from the sphere the boy held. "It's no good, fish," he stated flatly before returning his gaze to the pair. "I can't understand what I'm sure are your extremely helpful explanations… although I'm sure _he_ can understand you."

The snaggle-toothed little creature stopped and looked at the doctor helplessly before turning its eyes up to the boy who held him, bubbling further. The oversized blue head swayed slightly on its scrawny neck and the green eyes blinked rapidly.

"Well?" David pressed. "I'm sure your little pal there probably either wants you to seal your lips or spill your guts. Which is it?" Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms and swiveled side to side slightly as he continued to regard the recalcitrant prisoner. "Is it something to do with all those wonderful little geniuses at your school?"

An audible swallow.

Not that again. David knew the reports, but he didn't believe a word that tiny-brained teacher said. Why the warden had thought it would be a good idea to send the poor kid to that... He knew Blue never stood a chance at being accepted by the snobby little bunch, particularly that oversized child with the disturbingly mature mannerisms. All that winking and smirking. If anybody had asked he would have readily admitted he didn't like that one in particular, no matter that the city's pain-in-the-ass VIP who passed money around like head lice and wore his sense of self importance like a fur coat in July claimed him as a son. The whole 'power of flight' thing kind of gave it away though.

"I noticed you're not eating." No response. "You have to eat, Blue. You wanna grow up to be big and strong, don't ya?" he proposed with more than a touch of cynicism. This kid didn't have a snowball's chance of growing up 'big and strong', no matter how much spinach he ate. And he probably had realized it by now.

David slid a penlight from his desktop and examined it casually. "You know, if you don't eat, your brain'll starve and then it'll shrink and then your head will cave in on one side and look even funnier." The little blue face looked up quickly in alarm. "You don't want that, do you?"

Tears rapidly filled the big green eyes staring at him now, but instead of feeling sympathy the doctor was annoyed. "Oh, come on… You're smart enough to know that's not true. Not all of it anyway." He couldn't resist adding, "There's not much of anything that can make you look funnier."

The little face screwed up, fighting to maintain control, but a sob suddenly sputtered from between the boy's compressed lips accompanied by a hard thump on the glass from the fish in his arms. Dr. Morrow looked down to see the creature's jaw set in a pugnacious scowl while the round brown eyes stared daggers. He huffed in amusement over the little melon-shaped, water-bound pet's idea that he could defend his friend somehow. Clutching the ball tighter in one arm, the boy raised a hand to his mouth, pressed the back of a fist against his lips as tears slipped down his cheeks.

"Oh come on, Blue," David chided, piqued by a mild feeling of guilt. "Toughen up."

One shudder shook the narrow shoulders and the hand dropped away from his mouth, but the boy pressed his lips together even tighter as he avoided meeting the doctor's gaze.

Eyes narrowed the physician pulled a tissue from the box on his desk and held it out, a kind of peace offering, before asking, "Is there some problem with your mouth?"

Taking the tissue, the blue prisoner used it to cover the lower half of his face. "No," the small voice squeaked as a fresh flow of tears streamed down his cheeks.

Staring at the little inmate so long he began to squirm, David finally demanded, "All right, that's enough. Open up."

Found out, the little figure bowed his head in defeat. He knew that tone. It accompanied injections and inspections and all sorts of other disagreeable things. There was no point in resisting when grownups, particularly this one, sounded like that. He knew from long experience. Six years worth. Still staring at the floor, he barely opened his mouth.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" Sighing impatiently, David moved around his desk and put his palm to the little alien's oversized forehead, but not unkindly, tipping his head back.

Once again he was struck by how similar the boy's physical structures were to every humans' on the planet. How had his people decided to send him here? Had they been here before? God knew he'd given up asking why they'd sent him. Aside from his skin tone and the shape and size of his skull, and presumably his brain given the evidence of phenomenal intelligence they'd observed, he was practically normal. Normal. That word again.

Shining his penlight into the very ordinary looking oral cavity and squinting, he struggled to find anything out of place. "I see you lost a tooth…" he murmured, still searching.

Mouth agape the little boy let out a sudden forceful sob that startled the man into letting go. Once released the child began to cry, harder and harder, no longer trying to hide his mouth or his tears as David sat on the edge of his desk and watched. "Got a loose one beside it too," he commented.

"I tried not to eat anything too hard! But it keeps getting looser!" His squinting green eyes filled and overflowed freely. "Are they all going to fall out?" the voice queried plaintively.

Frowning, the physician paused before responding. "Yes. Yes, they are."

"I knew it." The boy's bawling suddenly grew again at hearing the definitive confirmation of his fears. "I'm bald… and I'm blue… and I'm shorter than everybody... and pretty soon I won't have any teeth either!" he cried as the fish in his arms swam in circles, gazing up at his friend in distress. "Then I really will be a freak, just like they say!"

Observing the child's anguish patiently, the doctor waited for a break in the noise so he didn't have to shout to be heard. "You'll get new ones, you know."

Eyes popping open, the sounds of distress nearly stopped. "What?"

"You get new teeth."

Thoughts racing, the boy's eyes darted around before he asked, "You mean, you'll put some new ones in for me?"

"No," David scowled. "They _grow_ in. Adult teeth. To replace… Oh, for pete's sake…" Suddenly realizing that without parents and due to his appalling lack of contact with society, no one had ever explained to the boy how the natural loss and replacement of teeth worked. Himself included. And anyway, who knew if this really was the way it was supposed to be for him. The boy looked more human than not, but still… it was all guesses. But he had seen that first tooth fall out… and then in his ignorance his fears had grown to assume the worst goaded on by the cruel rejection he faced daily. The physician sighed. He wasn't cut out to be a parent, damn it.

Crossing to a set of shelves, he selected a thick book and brought it to the child. "Here. Read that."

The heavy tome nearly pulled the skinny arms right down to the floor and covered the top of his pet's sphere completely, but the child's green eyes were still staring at the doctor in wonder. "I'm gonna grow new teeth?"

"Yes. That's what I said." Seeing a light of hope begin to shine in the small convict's face, he consented to elaborate. "All kids lose their teeth. Usually one or two or a few at a time. And then new bigger teeth replace them. And actually, you're a little ahead of the others – most of those kids won't even start to lose theirs for another couple years - but overall this is perfectly… normal."

The boy's mouth dropped open. "Normal? …I'm normal?"

"Yeah, kid. In this case, you're as normal as they come."

In his excitement, the child seemed to forget where he'd left his only friend. "Minion! Minion! Minion?" Finally, looking down, he struggled to rearrange the two unwieldy items he held, fumbling until the oversized book fell to the floor where it lay instantly forgotten. "Minion! Did you hear that? I'm _normal_!"

The excited fish did back flips, grinning at his owner's relieved laugh while David picked up the weighty volume.

"Here you go." He tried to hand it back. "There are more exciting, normal things in there you're going to want to know about too." Engaging in a brief Stooge-like exchange with the boy, they finally managed to get the book rearranged under the water-filled ball.

"Really?" Blinking owlishly, the overwhelmed child appeared completely dumbfounded by the possibility. "Like what?"

"Oh, constipation…" David answered with jazz hands, his sarcasm lost on the little person listening in wonder. "And puberty… all kinds of _fun_ stuff." He watched as boy and fish both looked down at the book with a kind of reverence. "Um, just stop when you get to chapter 22," he suggested, waggling a finger toward the thick bound pages.

"Why?" Suddenly two sets of eyes were looking at him with a gleam stoked by intense curiosity. And he realized another parental truth - telling them not to look was as good as inviting them to skip ahead and read the verboten area first.

"Because if 'normal' is your goal, then at six you shouldn't know all the ins and outs of sexual reproduction. Or pregnancy and parturition."

"Oh…" The blue boy gazed down on the medical book once more, his lips moving slightly as he attempted to pronounce that last unfamiliar word to himself.

"Trust me," David assured him gravely. "It'll give you bad dreams."

"Oh. Ok." Seeming to relinquish the temptation, the boy's face relaxed into a happier state once more before he asked, "When will my new teeth come in?"

"Well, I have to be honest and admit something that I prefer to never admit: I don't know." David folded his arms. "See, that's the funny thing about being normal, Blue. Everybody's different."

The boy's blank stare betrayed his confusion over the paradox.

"You think about that a while." Calling the guard to come and collect his charge again, Dr. Morrow stood. "Now go get some exercise. Read your book there. And I don't want to hear about you not eating again."

A wide smile sporting a missing front tooth answered his orders. Then looking at the doctor in silent gratitude, the little figure in orange was escorted out.

"I should have warned him not to expect the tooth fairy either." Those lovely little classmates of his were bound to bring that up next, taunt him with it. David sat down at his desk and leaned back in the chair, hands clasped behind his head. He sat for a long time, staring at his degrees and thinking about basic physiology. Thinking about children and parents. Thinking about aliens and about what it meant to be normal. Time passed and silence reigned. Finally he stirred and, feeling in one pocket, found a couple of quarters.

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Comments and thoughts and a little about what's happening in my life lately that keeps me from writing are on my facebook page. Thanks for reading.


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